


Peter & The Lost Boys: A Tik-tok Fan work

by cam_berrysauce



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan (1953), Peter Pan (2003), Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Gangsters, Blood and Gore, Dark, Drug Use, Gang Violence, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Other, Pining, Pirates, Possible Character Death, Pranks and Practical Jokes, The Lost Boys (Peter Pan), The Lost Boys Gang, This is based off of a tiktok tag, TikTok, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Violence, follow us on tiktok #thelostboysgang, theres 38 of us and counting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cam_berrysauce/pseuds/cam_berrysauce
Summary: Based off of a tag on TikTok started by @somethingpointy, this piece features original characters created by Tik Tok users and put together in a collaboration between us all. This goes into detail about the implied storyline present in our Tiktoks. It is with love and pain we present this to the public. Chapters will be uploaded as they are finished.Peter & The Lost Boys takes the timeless classic Peter Pan and puts a dark twist on it, in which The Lost Boys and Hook's Pirates go head to head in a gang war centred around eternal youth, Pixie Dust, and a relationship turned sour. We hope you enjoy.Big thanks to @cartomancycosplay on Tiktok for helping me (@cam_berrysauce) for helping me write this!





	1. The Hangman's Tree

This city hasn’t been safe for a long time. Not for anybody, young, old, healthy, sick, rich, or homeless. People have tried to get the violence and fighting to stop but nothing seems to help, not this time. It always seems to be dark here now, waves rough in the harbour and clouds obstructing what was normally a kind, forgiving sky. Neverland isn’t the same way it used to be. Most remembered it, from when they were younger. Colourful buildings and lights and festivals, the annual fairy ball, it was a wonderful place to live. Something was always happening and the city felt alive. Then the rift happened. Two nameless kids grew up together and were an unstoppable team, but when things got rough, they chose what was most important to them, friendship for one, power for the other. When Peter Pan and James Hook split their friendship, they formed groups against the other and took over the city, and it was no longer safe to host large events for fear the rival gangs would meet and fight, with people getting caught in the crossfire. Many adults took the side of Hook, having cast aside the ways of retaining youth, while the children took the side of Peter, relishing in their childhood and wanting to remain that way forever, just like him. The children and teens found solace on one block in the far end of the city, inland and away from Captain Hook’s goons in the harbour. This was the beginning of The Hangman’s Bar and the beginning of the Lost Boys.

  
The quaint remains of a once-popular bar became a hideaway and home for children and teens with nowhere else to go, and the home of the Lost Boys, and sometimes Girls, who followed Peter Pan as if he was an older brother. The bar was where meetings were held, and where people would be initiated and brought into the life of the gang, usually loved and taught the ways of preservation and how to fight. The bar was still run and open, to help with the ever-growing costs of the boys' lives. More hungry mouths came in by the dozens and many didn’t even know how to keep a part-time job, or pickpocket enough to live off of. The older boys were behind the bar, keeping the younger ones out of the stock. The few people who came in had been doing this since before the boys took over and were often too drunk to even question why it was run by a bunch of teenagers.  
Above the bar itself was a series of abandoned apartments where many of the Lost Boys lived, containing secret passageways and hidden rooms, which many boys used as an escape from their many prank victims. Lovingly referred to as Hangman’s Tree, the hideaway stretched and branched out into neighbouring buildings and was intricate and winding, rope bridges and ziplines connecting the buildings, strong vines growing up and over the roofs, giving more privacy and protection from the outside world. This is where our story begins.

* * *

  
It was a particularly dark Wednesday morning when the Lost Boys awoke to a clatter coming from the main bar area, the sound of shattering glass and tipping over tables, causing each of them to come down the stairs, several of them out of the walls, their weapons at the ready, all of them filled with fear and anger, anxious to see what all the trouble was. It wasn’t until they were all standing around the bar, holding lights up to their tired eyes, did they realize that it was only a raccoon that had broken a bottle of cheap scotch. A resounding groan came from the crowd, some complaining about boys who forgot to lock up all the way, others yelling back that they had, some yawning from long nights, and a cheerful sigh from the leader, Peter Pan.

  
“Whew! That was close guys, good reaction time.” Pan put his hands confidently on his hips, looking out over the kids with a bright smile. The Lost Boys were far from chipper and groaned at the optimistic teen.

  
“Hook hasn’t attacked us in weeks, boss,” called out Fletcher, a 15-year-old boy who had been with the gang for 5 years already and many had respected him because of this, “Are these drills still necessary?”

  
Everyone else was silent, they were all thinking it, but there wasn’t a child in the room who thought their fight with Hook was over, it had been going on for almost a year now, and too many actions have been taken to have it resolve nicely. Children were basically crawling out of the woodworks to join Peter, having escaped Hook or gotten away from rough times at home, there was chaos everywhere and no one was safe.

  
Peter sucked the inside of his cheek, head falling as he looked at his feet, then back out over the crowd. “I think we all know the answer to that. Yes, we do still need to train, and track the Pirates, and get ahead of whatever his plot is this time,” He paused, rolling his shoulders and adjusting the green vest he wore, adorned with patches and pins, “Next time we might not be so lucky.”

  
The boys looked to one another, the mood turns dark and grievous with the mentioning of their last encounter with Hook. Many boys got hurt during the fight, some left so beaten and battered that they were still supposed to be on bed rest. Many were left with scars, some physical, and some mentally engraved in their skulls. No one was left untouched.

  
With that Peter left, trudging back up the steps, back to the safety of his now cold bed, and the gaggle of teens was left standing in the bar, most in pyjamas and socks, confused and tired. The ones who weren’t were setting up pranks, or were cleaning up the pranks that had already happened And were getting punished for, most likely by Primrose, a fairy and self-proclaimed mom. This hadn’t been the first time this had happened, a false alarm. It hadn’t even been the first time that week. The smart ones made sure to look at who wasn’t dead on their feet and made sure to hide their valuables.

  
The boys on watch duty rubbed their eyes and walked to the main lookout points, outside the bar, up on the roof, the ladders to the east, and the back door out of the kitchens. The boys had to always be on guard, too many accidents had already happened. What they thought was a cat could’ve been a Pirate spy, a bird on another roof may be a camera covered in painted leaves, or even a customer in the bar could’ve been an armed assailant. The paranoia was suffocating and it took every amount to self-control to not break out weapons whenever someone sneezed.


	2. If Walls Could Talk, They'd Say Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lost Boys are left in Hangman's Bar at the absence of their leader. All hell breaks loose.

“Well now what are we supposed to do?” Swift called out, breaking the silence. She was sitting on one of the barstools, turning it back and forth with her foot. Everyone was silent for a moment, as if thinking all at once, when another boy spoke.

“We all go back to fucking sleep is what we do,” replied Fletcher, over the crowd of teens, and was the first to walk back up the stairs towards the apartments up above, many more following suit, save for a handful that stayed behind, presumably because they were already awake before the drill. It took a few minutes before anybody said anything to each other, and when one someone broke the ice, the boys clumped up to talk about everything that had just occurred, the ones who didn’t slip away to their rooms. The loudest of the bunch was Tootles, who sat around with Ant, a ten-year-old that was a chaotic little punk that stuck around Tootles soaking up anything that was trouble related, Jax, a fellow prankster that often joined in the fun, Tad, a good friend of Ant’s, and Poppy, the master of any and all secret passageways in The Hangman’s Tree. 

“I don’t mind the drills, I just wished that they waited a bit longer, y’ know? We barely had time to finish setting that thing up, I can’t wait to see their reactions.” Tootles leaned against the counter, an almost sick grin on his face. Jax glared at Tootles and shushed him, jabbing a thumb at the other boys all around them. Tootles stuck his tongue out at him and looked away, trained on the few girls left in the room. Wendy was talking to Alice about what to make for breakfast that was fast and could feed all of the boys, Primrose and Tink were glaring at Wendy and whispering things to another, which everyone knew wasn’t good. They were usually pretty level headed but when it came to Wendy, that all went out the window. Swift was heading upstairs stretching, ready to get to bed after her watch shift up on the roof and coming down to see the ruckus. Tootles grinned mischievously, seeing his chance, makes his way over to her, leaving all the other boys to look at him like the fool he was. “Well someone looks tired, do you need something, or maybe,  _ someone _ to help you sleep?” 

Swift looked up at Tootles, plain annoyance on her face, “If I did, I would ask Fletcher since he seems to be the only REAL man around here.” 

Tootles pouted slightly before straightening back up and smirking at her, “Well I don’t know, I don’t think he’d be willing to do anything with anyone, all things considered.” 

Swift glares at him and turns to head up the stairs, “When will you learn that I’m not some little toy to play with?” 

Tootles crosses his arms leans against the stairwell, “When you learn how to play the game.” Swift leaves with a huff and a shake of her head and Tootles turns to Ant holding in a laugh. “Did you see the look on her face? Priceless!” 

Interactions such as these were commonplace between Tootles and Swift, and much of the gang seemed to be on the fence about what exactly was happening between the two teens. Some believed they hated each other, but others that knew them a little bit better realized that they were head over heels. The older lost boys, in particular, were able to recognize this; however, it seemed to be completely lost on the two that were involved. Tootles and Swift were oblivious to their feelings, in this case. 

Tootles walked over to a large plank near the far wall of the small tavern, and with bow, kicked the wall in a particular spot and the plank below him tilted and gave way before flipping over and closing up behind him. Some of the boys just sighed at his childishness while others took note of the passageway. They were littered all around the apartments, with thin hallways between rooms, vents that lead to the rooftop and now, a small tunnel under the bar. 

Poppy huffed and crossed their arms. “I just showed him that one last week, now he’s off showing everyone.” Everyone laughed at Poppy, knowing exactly what she meant. Any little secret told to Tootles couldn’t be kept for too long, and soon they learned to keep him out of the loop on many things. 

It was just then when they heard an angry yell coming from upstairs. Then a few seconds later, an angry stampede of footsteps coming down the stairs. The boys stepped back as Fletcher comes down covered in blood-red paint and shaving cream, furious as a prodded bull. 

“Where is he!? I’ll have his head!” Lilith, Spades, and Wendy all instinctively facepalmed, now knowing exactly Tootles had been planning, while Primrose started laughing and handing Fletcher a napkin from off the bar. The other boys either moved back, laughed, or pointed at the wall where Tootles disappeared to. Then, like clockwork, other angry screams and squeals came from the other rooms and a good ten or more boys and girls came down in similar condition. 

Slightly came down last, his hat by his side and the boys took this as their cue to run. When the hat comes off, someone’s not going to make it out alive. Jax pushed Poppy, Ant and Tad through a passage through the wall, Prim and Tink flew up the staircase past Slightly, and everyone else found any way possible to get out, some desperate enough to run outside and start climbing the thick vines up to the roof. Slightly turned to the other victims. “Who. Did. It.” They all looked around, not sure who would prank Slightly of all people before Adrien piped up. “It was probably Tootles. We were the only ones who didn’t fall for his salt and sugar prank.” 

The moment she said this all of the boys ran up the stairs in an angry mob looking for blood, shouting profanities, and brandishing weapons. A few moments later a head popped up from the floor grinning from their success. “Have fun trying to find me.”


	3. Living Things Haunt Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a talk with someone close to him, and Colin fills Peter in on some missed information

Peter walked into his room and shut the door, sighing to himself and running a hand down his face. The boys were great but sometimes dealing with them was daunting. He sat there on his bed for a few minutes, quietly staring at the blank wall in front of him, and thinking things over in his head. What were they going to do if Hook came back? What was he planning? It was still so hard to think of him. Peter swallowed and nodded to himself, then leaned back and flipped the switch on the wall beside his bed, sitting up again as a bright light illuminated his back, and cast a shadow on the wall in front of him. His shadow. 

“What do you think of all of this?” He asked the black mass on the wall, crossing his legs.

“I think you're a whiny bitch, Peter,” Shadow replied, his mouth the only identifiable feature of his face. “I think we need to g-”

“Don’t go there.” Peter cut him off, quickly putting his hand against Shadow’s mouth. “We aren’t doing that. Not today and not ever. That would mean Hook would be right, and we can’t have that.”

Shadow moved out from behind Peter’s hand, crossing his arms. “Yeah yeah, whatever. How long have we been eighteen, huh? How much longer do we need to keep this up? There are people’s lives at stake here, because of us. Mainly you. I’m just here for the ride.” 

“It isn’t my fault, Shadow. If Hook hadn’t-” 

This time Shadow cut him off, “Call him James, you fucking halfwit. You talk about him like he’s some horrific evil entity.”

“He is! He’s killed people!” Peter shouted, then looked towards the door as people stormed down the hallway, and spoke quieter, “He’s killed kids.”

“So have you! What makes us any better than him?”

There was silence between them for a few minutes, and Peter took off his shoes, leaving them on the floor beside the bed, and then laid down. “There’s new kids coming here every day. I don’t know what we’re going to do. Wendy and Alice have been fantastic in trying to feed them and get everything organized but eventually, it’s just going to be too much.” 

Shadow put his hands behind his head, “We’ll get it figured out, it’s not like we haven’t done it before. There’s been an influx of kids coming every fall since we got big enough to be considered a gang, it’s just how it goes.”

Peter nodded, then ran his hands down his face, heaving a sigh. “Fair enough.” Times seemed to be getting more desperate as the weeks went on. Less food, more mouths, more injuries. All of these things add up quickly, meaning a higher degree of crime and violence was required to get by. Soon enough, all that would be left of Neverland would be ash and smoke, most likely taking Peter and James with it.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair, catching on curls here and there. They had come up with solutions in the past, running the bar, pooling their resources, working side jobs, pickpocketing and saving every penny. They were supposed to take care of each other but how could they were barely staying afloat themselves. Peter couldn’t be everywhere at once, making sure they were safe, making sure they weren’t going hungry. Keeping them alive was a challenge enough with how well they got along. Tinkerbell had attempted to hurt Wendy multiple times with help from Primrose. Tootles and Fletcher were always at each other's necks, dragging other boys into their little “rivalry”. Stopping dangerous pranks in the night seemed to be a hobby by now, by how often he did it. Sleep had far been abandoned, caffeine becoming a god to worship daily, if not hourly. 

“So what are we going to do then, we’ve done anything legal and everything unlegal-”

“Illegal, if you can’t speak right then shut your mouth.” Shadow crosses their arms, a little smirk on their face. Peter took in a deep breath before continuing, trying to keep his head. He wouldn’t lose his temper and get into an argument with HIMSELF, it turned out well.

“ _ Illegal _ , smartass, we don’t have many options left.”

“I might have one or two….” Shadow propped its elbow on its knee, leaning their chin into it. Peter leaned forward a bit, intrigued. What had they thought up that he hadn’t?

“Mind sharing, or am I supposed to figure it out on my own?” 

“Well, bitch, think about this, how does James feed his crew? They can’t just keep it on them.” Shadow grinned light making an empty hole where its mouth should be. Peter thought for a second before it dawned on him. He jumped up abruptly, standing on his bed.

“Hook must have another location somewhere! Why didn’t think of it before!?” Shadow waited a moment before standing up as well, hand on their hip.

“It would help you, and be a blow to his crew and  _ especially _ his ego.” Peter launched himself off his bed, running over to his desk, where a map of Neverland laid. He then grabbed a pencil and got to work, sipping coffee and seeing possible places where they could hide their stash, and the best way to sneak in and out with as much as they could. 

Half an hour later, pages upon pages of discarded paper littered the floor. Bad plans, worse locations, and terrible outcomes, each wadded up and thrown over his shoulder. His vest was now draped over the back of the chair, his hair had multiple pencils stuck in it, all which he stuck in, forgotten about, grabbed a new pencil, wash and repeat. There were napkins stained with dry coffee from the multiple times he spilled it onto the desk, sometimes, not even bothering to wipe it up, just letting it soak into the paper around it. 

Peter stretched, pushing more papers to the ground before standing up and looking at his shadow. “I think I might have something. But before we can continue, we need to scope out the place.” He sat down and started explaining his plan, running back to the desk to grab papers and maps, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. He was just picking up armfulls of papers off the desk when Colin barged into the room, looking a little bit concerned, even more so after looking at the state of Peter’s room. 

“The boys are being idiots again.” Peter set back down the papers on the desk before turning to Colin and crossing his arms.

“They are always being idiots, they’re boys.” Colin was about to continue when a loud crash came from outside. 

“Shit! They’re going to kill him!” Colin grabbed Peter’s arm before dragging him out of the room, papers floating into the hallway as they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the post delay!! I'll admit, this chapter was taken over almost entirely by @cartomancycosplay because I've been so busy with midterms and I am so so thankful for this fandom so far.
> 
> Thank you so much for the Kudos and the reads!!


	4. Tarred and Feathered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what Tootles did to the Lost crew, plus some information on the coming steak-out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the lack of updates! We've all been super busy with school. I'm hoping to get some work done on chapter 5 this week while I'm chilling after/before exams. I go home on the 15th so I'll have some more time to get stuff done!  
\- Camryn <3

Peter wasn’t exactly happy when he got outside. It seemed like the normal chaos that went on. He couldn’t figure out what was so concerning. Tootles awkwardly waved at Peter as he sat on a large pipe that extended from the wall. Fletcher took his chance and tried to grab Tootles by the ankle. His grasp barely missed, grazing his target. Scrambling up back onto the pipe, Tootles ripped off one of his shoes and threw it down at Fletcher. The shoe hit his hand, making him lose his grip. He fell a few feet before landing on a crowd of boys, all covered in paint, feathers, and shaving cream. Primrose was rushing around, wiping off people’s faces, checking for any cut and bruises, while also telling them off for being stupid. Spades forcefully held Adrien and Wright back from getting to Tootles. Colin walked over and plucked a feather from one of the boys’ shoulders and twisted it in his fingers. “Huh, those are new.”

Peter ran a hand down his face. He knew that Tootles was a pain but this was a new level for him. Peter looked around at the carnage of boys before putting two fingers in his mouth and whistled, getting the boys’ attention easily. Some boys immediately sat down, looking like beaten dogs, others grinned smugly, knowing Tootles was going to get it.

“They are out for blood because of a PRANK?!” Tootles whipped his head around to Peter and stood up on top of the pipe and looking quite offended.

“I did not just do a prank. I also hid all the toilet paper.” This did not help was that Pines took the shoe Tootles threw angrily, toying with it as if he didn’t know whether to keep it for some sort of weird blackmail or try and throw it again. Slightly chose for them, ripping the shoe from their hands and launching it up towards Tootles, where it nailed him in the forehead. Tootles fell backwards before grabbing the pipe, dangling over the boys. Adrien glanced at Tootles before busting out laughing as she watched him struggling to hold on. Pines glared at Slightly, but didn’t do anything, not wanting to be his new target.

“Would someone please give Slightly his hat back. I’d prefer to not be a little splatter on the pavement.” Tootles pulled himself back up, lying on the pipe. Castor nodded, a bit annoyed, and ran off, pushing people aside easily with his bigger frame, then rushing back inside of the apartments. Peter ran a hand across his face and walked over to the pipe.

“I’m going to say this once, get down here, but first, what did you do?” Tootles looked down at Peter and pursed his lips as he saw the lack of a grin on Peter’s face, that generally would have been there after an escapade like this one.

“Well, you see, inside of certain areas I set up buckets of paint.” Tootles scrambled up and walked up to a small ledge that poked out from the building. “The paint poured on them and while they were distracted, WOOSH, a giant cardboard hand covered in shaving cream knocked them over.” Carefully, he made his way to a nearby window climbed inside and leaned out looking a Peter. “Then I threw pillows at them about….. Ten minutes ago?” he then stood back up and soon was out of view. It was then that Castor ran out with a grey fedora, and seeing that there was no one on the pipe anymore ran forward to make sure that there wasn’t a cadaver waiting for him.

“Where did Tootles go?” He asked concerned, flinging the fedora aside where Slightly brushed it off and put it back on, tension easily flowing away from him. He walked up to Castor and jabbed a thumb at the window. Right on cue, Tootles burst out of one of the first story windows, the hinges creaking as they are forced outward.

“So, what did I miss?” Tootles settled down on the windowsill, looking at everyone expectantly, a bit of concern for Peter but also pride in his victims showing on his face. There was a murmur through the crowd, some still angry, others just bored now that everything had calmed down. Swift walked over and smacked him over the head, just hard enough to make him wince. “Hey! What was that for?” Swift just gave him a pointed look and walked back to the crowd, where Fletcher high-fived her. Tootles looked at Swift a little hurt but then stuck his tongue out at Fletcher, who, in response, flipped him off. The two starting to glare at each other and it wasn’t until Peter spoke did they stop.

“Shut up! I need some boys to check out an area for me.” At that moment, everyone straightened up and listened. Peter usually send people on jobs. But when he did, it was either a coffee run, or something serious. And as Tad had gotten him some just an hour ago, they were 90% sure on which it was.

“We all know that, Peter". Now pleased with the attention he got from the boys, turned to look at Tootles, an almost sick grin on his face.

“Since you are already here, and you seem to have enough energy to cause problems, how about you go Tootles?”

Tootles gulped, then grinned, nodding.

“Now, who else is going to go with you?” Peter tapped his chin, thinking. He then grinned, the light bulb in his head turning on. “Fletcher, since you are on such good terms with Tootles you’re going.” Fletcher snapped his head towards Peter, but before he could protest, Peter raised his hand to him. “Uh, uh, uh. No excuses. Now who else…. Swift! You keep those two from killing each other.” Swift nodded and crossed her arms, giving a pointed look at Tootles as he too, opened his mouth to argue. “Castor, I’m going to give you the directions, keep them on track.” A huff came from Castor and raised an eyebrow at Peter.

“Do you need to ask?” Peter shrugged before looking over the crowd, thinking. “We need a few more people, safety in numbers…. Adrien, Pines. You’ll go too.” Adrien grinned, setting her staff over her shoulder, already good to go. Peter turned from them, looking at Sawyer and Colin. The boys sat there for a moment before Peter started doing eenie-Meenie-miney-mo. After a few seconds Sawyer just stepped forward and grabbed his hand.  
“I’ll go, just… stop.” Peter grinned and started walking towards the bar. “Okay, boys! Get stuff ready and I’ll meet you in half an hour to give you the rundown.” He went into the building and as the door shut behind him, chaos once again resumed and Tootles dove into the window and locked it behind him to avoid the wreckage.


	5. Preppers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry about the wait on this one. My heart hasn't been super into this lately but I'm hoping to dive back into this au super soon. Heres a shorter update and some insight into some of the interpersonal relationships at Hangmans Bar.

Fletcher waited by the bathroom doors as boys left one by one after cleaning themselves from Tootles prank. Slipping in after the last one left, he locked the door behind him. He washed off his face, huffing as he shook off all the feathers on his vest. Taking off his bandana he looked over it, scraping off pieces of dried paint. After a few minutes, he left the room and quickly slipped back into his own. 

Things between him and Tootles had been complicated for the last year or so, after a large falling out between the two. It wasn’t hard to see between any of the Lost Boys, that these two ex-friends were at a bit of a war. Not only with each other, but with themselves. They had a past before the gang and it seems like they both caused the other to somehow end up in the gang, though Fletcher was in it several years before Tootles. This next mission would prove to be difficult for them, and maybe something good would come out of it. Fletcher sighed, running hands over the semi-crusty shirt from the copious amounts of shaving cream that had been used to not only coat but severely annoy a good percentage of the teenagers that ran rampant in the halls of Hangman’s Tree. 

It would most likely be easier to try and explain what had happened between Fletcher and Tootles, or Frank and Thomas, if the two were clear about what had happened. But after many times of trying and figuring out what happened, the boys hadn’t gotten anywhere. One person said one thing, the other said something else, and it seemed like there was a giant misunderstanding, or someone was messing with the facts, or chances are, both.

Downstairs, most, if not all of the crew who had been put together for this job waited, with a couple of the older Lost Boys and Girls thrown into the mix as well. Sawyer was slumped over a table, Castor next to him memorizing details. Pines and Tink were leaning over the counter, where the top of Swift’s head could just be seen, and the clatter of bottles and glasses indicating that she was either looking for a stiff drink or a secret passage. However, knowing what she had to deal with, it was probably the former. Tootles walked down the stairs and looked around the room before leaning on the bar. Swift reached a hand up, putting down three glasses and a glass of some swirling gold and amber liquid and pushed two of them towards Pines and Tink, taking the third for herself. The room had an underlying feeling of tension, hidden away by those trying to joke around and socialize. 

It wasn’t until Peter came downstairs did everyone’s pretenses disappeared and the air got heavy. Postures straightened, drinks set aside, and all attention was put onto the teen. 

“Is everybody who was assigned ready to go?” Peter asked, adjusting his denim jacket, and twirling the bloodied baseball bat in his hand. Castor and the others who had been assigned stood up, nodding almost in unison as they gathered their belongings and got ready to go. This was going to be a long stakeout, and a dangerous one at that. 

Peter gathered the group of teens around a table and began laying out the plan. Sawyer and Castor were the first to take notes and ask questions, being the older boys of the group. They were the most experienced, and had been given special responsibility for a lot of the planning and impromptu maneuvering when they were out on the field. Tootles and Fletcher had a noticeable, tense distance between them, with Swift, Adrien, and Pines standing between them to keep them from tearing out each other’s throats. Swift and Adrien were thick as thieves, and bridged the gap between the older group of boys and the younger ones, since Adrien often acted as Sawyers wingman. 

With their plan sorted out, the group gathered the last of their equipment and said their goodbyes for the night. It was time to get shit done.


End file.
